


The Object of my Stare

by echoes_of_another_life



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:51:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_another_life/pseuds/echoes_of_another_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen tried to listen to the music, to not think about straddling Jared’s hips, pushing against him until Jared’s back arched against the chair, hips bucking up to mesh with his cock. Run both his hands through his hair, either side of his head and tighten his hold, twist his head to a side and taste the warm skin at the juncture of his throat. Tongue resting over his pulse point, counting the beats until they were breathing in unison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Object of my Stare

**Author's Note:**

> Set about a month before Jensen and Jared were called back in together to read for the Network and begin filming the Pilot.

So this is the object, only not so much object as cutie pie *points below* I mean, dude look at that. Man and boy cute and hot, a mixture of contradictions and so fucking tempting. Don't you just wanna ruffle him, dirty him up a little until that smiles turns lustful?

Jensen does...

Jensen almost choked and for a split-second he was unsure whether the tears already threatening were actual tears or simply caused by the effort it took to hold on to the laughter lodged at the back of his throat.

“Steve’s playing a gig here?” Jensen surveyed the venue, which was equal parts kitsch wallpaper and pink neon stage lights. Not to mention the glitter ball. Maybe he’d been away from LA too long, gotten too used to Vancouver because _this_ reminded him of a place Rosenbaum would drag him to, all it needed to complete the image was a karaoke machine. Jensen turned to face Chris, watched the small smile tug at the corner of Chris’ mouth, and then stumbled forward as Chris let out a bark of laughter and slapped him, hard between the shoulder blades.

“Step in to the world of the ornate and funky,” Chris laughed. He reached for Jensen, took hold of him by the shoulders, and turned him to face the small staircase partially hidden by the all-bar-one-ness of the upstairs venue, urging him forward.

Jensen descended the dark staircase, Chris close behind him as he came to an abrupt stop in a low-ceilinged room, which was already crowded, the music space intimate and back-roomy. 

“Nice,” Jensen whistled. He took in the front of the stage, noted the way it jutted out from one corner of the room. Unlike most clubs’ musical space, it didn’t rise as far from the floor and was lit with minimal front lighting, which helped to add to the room’s atmosphere of intimacy. 

“Kind of like your best friend’s basement back home, eh, Jen?” Chris smiled. “Table’s reserved somewhere…” Chris waved his hand, encompassing the entire room, slapped Jensen on the shoulder, and walked away in the direction of the bar. 

Jensen glanced around the venue, looking for an empty table. It was obvious at first glance that the seating had been quick to fill up. Most of the tables already taken, littered with bottles and half-filled glasses as an increasing buzz of conversation circulated the room. Jensen turned his head, his gaze drawn toward the laughter coming from a booth that ran the length of one wall along with a few wooden-topped tables where a mixed crowd chatted around the pre-concert excitement. On the surface, the atmosphere seemed relaxed but Jensen could feel the undercurrent of expectancy, which became increasingly more obvious as one person after another looked toward the empty stage, watched for any sign of movement. 

Jensen breathed out on a sigh, felt his shoulders relax; lose their stiffness as he glanced toward the far side of the room. His gaze searched out Chris among the bar seating where most of the younger crowd seemed to be gathered, jostled for elbow-room as they tried to gain the bartenders attention. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to just kickback and relax, to not have to worry about script changes or shooting schedules. Just be comfortable in his own skin. He’d missed this, missed the easy pace of friendships that revolved around more than set locations or network connections. He missed crashing out on Steve’s couch because somewhere between the laughter, guitar chords, and softly sung lyrics the night had retreated and made way for the faint rumbling of dawn. Maybe it was the tequila talking but he couldn’t remember when he’d last felt so at ease with his surroundings, with himself. Hadn’t realized how much he’d needed the time away, time to relax and just enjoy doing nothing more than sharing a few beers and listening to quality music in good company. 

Jensen turned away from the bar toward the darker, more intimate corners where at last he noticed a few empty tables. He stumbled a little as he made his way through the crowded, smoke-filled room, ignored the amount of tequila working its way through his bloodstream when he almost tripped over his own feet. Slowly, carefully he made his way to the table marked reserved, collapsed into the nearest chair, and sighed. It felt good to be back among friends, he felt good, recharged, and ready for whatever chance or opportunity happened to come his way. He casually draped one arm over the back of the chair; legs spread as he tilted his head back and let the warm, intimate atmosphere of the club seep into his skin. Closed his eyes and breathed it all in, lost in his own world when Chris slammed the bottle of Jack Daniels on the table’s surface causing Jensen to jerk upright.

“Round two,” Chris laughed. 

Twenty minutes and several shots of Jack later and Jensen could see Chris’ fingers were already twitching; he raised his glass to his lips and swallowed around a knowing smile. He knew Chris could never sit still to a decent guitar riff, almost as if he couldn’t wait to feel his own fingers riding along the strings of the guitar. They both loved to watch Steve play but Jensen knew that there was nothing Chris loved more than pouring everything he had into a guitar of his own, the kiss of fingers up and down the fret board while the other hand caressed the strings, was where Chris lived. It was a place they all loved, somewhere both Chris and Steve could always take Jensen.

Jensen sighed as Steve slid into his first song, slowly, tentatively building up the atmosphere until all sound stopped save for Steve’s voice drifting across the room. It was low, rich sounding, and direct with a feeling of melancholy drifting just below the surface of the lyrics. Jensen closed his eyes, concentrated on Steve’s voice until everything disappeared and all he could hear was the music. 

“Earth calling Jenny.” 

Jensen jumped, eyes opening to collide with Chris’ shit-eating grin as Chris kicked him under the table. 

“Ever wonder why music always sounds better when you’re stoned?” Jensen mumbled.

“Nope, but I don’t think Steve would be too happy to hear that he sounds like shit without pot as his back-up band,” Chris laughed. 

“Fuck you dude.” Jensen smiled; he turned to take in the room, the reactions from the audience as Steve announced a ten-minute break, unhooked his guitar, and made his way to where they were sitting. Jensen scanned the tables, felt the buzz once again as it began to circulate around the room, saw the appreciation, the enjoyment evident on the faces of Steve’s audience. The smile on the guy standing at the bar. Jensen picked up his drink, took a long swallow, turned to acknowledge Steve, nodded briefly, and immediately looked back toward the bar. 

He had his back to them now, the kid with the smile, giving Jensen an opportunity to take in just how tall he was. His hair just a shade darker than his T-shirt. It looked free of any product, natural, falling to his collar where it curled slightly at the nape of his neck, and Jensen’s fingers itched to feel its softness. He was slim but apparently muscular beneath the deep brown t-shirt that seemed to cling appreciatively to his upper back and hug his trim waist. Its sleeves extending only slightly over his shoulders and molding to the muscles in his upper arms, leaving the rest of his arm bare save for a sprinkling of dark hair and a silver watchstrap, which stood out against sun-tanned skin. His hands tucked into his front pockets pulled at the loose denim of his jeans, accentuating the curve of his buttocks, hinting at an ass that Jensen already wanted to learn the shape of, pull tight against his own hips to test the fit. 

“Nice,” Jensen whistled, again. 

“Jenny was just saying how he thought you sounded like shit unless he’s stoned,” Chris announced in greeting as Steve pulled out a chair, spun it around, straddled it, and cuffed the back of Jensen’s head before accepting the joint Chris held out.

“Man, I’m so gonna kick your ass,” Jensen warned as Chris tipped his chair back and laughed. 

“I love this place,” Steve interrupted, breathing out around a puff of smoke. “It’s a rebellion against a generation of synthetic tunes, you know, all that crap written with a marketing budget in mind?”

“And I suppose Simon and Garfunkel doing that whole regrouping thing a while back had nothing to do with it?” Jensen grinned, taking a long draw from the joint Steve passed over. 

“Man, gimme that,” Chris hissed as he snatched the joint from between Jensen’s fingers. “Vancouver’s turned you into a pussy. That and spending too much time with Rosenbaum.” 

Jensen laughed, winked at Steve, and watched the way Steve’s mouth twitched, trying to hold back his own laughter. Jensen raised his glass in Chris’ direction, tipped his head back and swallowed. 

“Steve’s right, man,” Chris began, taking several puffs on the joint before handing it back to Steve.

Jensen was only half-listening; his gaze wandered back to the bar as he watched the way tall, dark and handsome tipped his head back and laughed, hair falling back from his face and exposing his neck. Jensen wondered what he would taste like if he just walked over and licked a slow path along the long expanse of tanned skin. Jensen watched him gesture to the bartender to set up a row of shots as conversation among his group flitted between easy smiles and friendly touches. Something Jensen noticed he did a lot; touched things, people, and he wondered what those long fingers would feel like wrapped around his dick, hot and spit-licked as they teased over the head of his cock. 

“People can only take that manufactured crap for so long,” Chris said, kicking Jensen under the table again. 

“Huh, what?” Jensen asked.

“People are looking for something with a little more substance, real music. Shit that actually says something,” Chris finished. 

“So I guess it’s not just at the top of the charts where the times are a changing?” Jensen asked, humour evident. 

“Are you shittin’ me? I swear I am gonna kill Rosenbaum. You start spouting that eighties crap, all big muffs and Marshall stacks and I’ll kick your ass straight back to Vancouver,” Chris warned.

Steve grinned around a mouthful of Jack and said nothing. 

“This is something real, man,” Chris said. 

“Real, yeah…” Jensen began, his eyes fixed straight ahead when he noticed the kid at the bar turn in his direction, laughter fading, smile sliding away as he made eye contact with Jensen. Stilled glass halfway toward his mouth. Jensen watched as he ducked his head, looked up at Jensen through long, unruly bangs and smiled. It was quick, intense and over so fast that Jensen almost forgot how to breathe as he caught himself staring at the flush which crept up over the kid’s neck. Jensen shifted; spread his legs further apart, his hand dropping suggestively between his thighs to palm his growing erection through denim. 

“Relax, Jensen’s just fuckin’ with you,” Steve laughed, used Chris’ shoulder to push himself up to his feet. “I have a set to finish, don’t be smoking all my shit.”

“He’s definitely fuckin’ with someone and it sure isn’t me.” Chris smiled as Steve made his way back to the stage, picked up his guitar and winked at Chris before relaxing into the chords of ‘Without You’.

Jensen shifted uncomfortably as his dick chafed against the confines of his pants. Watched the kid watch him, saw the sideway glances, the way he looked across when he thought Jensen wasn’t looking. Saw him bend low to whisper something to someone in his group and a head come up and turn to look in Jensen’s direction. The kid flushed deeper and nudged his friend, looked toward Jensen and just as quickly looked away. Jensen frowned, needed to be closer, to be a party to whatever secrets they were sharing, wanted to know more--everything when the friend hastily averted his gaze and shrugged his shoulders.

“Refill?” Jensen glanced at Chris as he shoved his chair back and immediately reached for the table as his dick rubbed harder against the tight confines of his jeans. He shifted his weight, adjusted his pants and ignored Chris’ raised eyebrow and knowing stare as he tilted the still half-full bottle of Jack Daniels in Jensen’s direction. 

“Yeah, well I’m thirsty.” Jensen shrugged.

“And horny,” Chris laughed.

Jensen took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the bar, stride confident as he kept his gaze locked on the back of the other man’s head. He knew he was smiling, even without seeing his face. Could tell by the way he tipped his head back slightly, hair brushing the top of his shoulders as they shook slightly when the smile gave way to laughter. Something Jensen just knew he did a lot, smiled, laughed the kind of laugh that pulled you in, held you captive, and refused to relinquish its hold until you were laughing too. Jensen caught himself, shook his head free of Tequila, shouldered his way through a group of people, and leaned both elbows against the bar top. His thigh brushed up deliberately against the younger man’s as he leaned forward to gain the bartenders attention. He heard his breath hitch, felt him in lean in, close enough to catch the faint traces of sweat on his skin. Christ he was tall, Jensen thought. Pretty, hazel eyes, tinted with green, tanned skin and perfectly shaped mole on his chin, another just to the side of mouth… 

“What do you say?” Jensen asked in reply to the bartender’s questioning stare. “Does handsome here look like a Molson guy to you?” Jensen tilted his head to the left indicating the younger man standing next to him, turned his head and grinned in answer to his wide-eyed stare. 

“Uhm, Molson’s good, thanks.”

“Make that two,” Jensen told the bartender. Not once shifting his gaze, he choked back a groan as the kid’s words whispered across the short distance separating them, breathed across his skin, and wrapped him in heat that seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. He reached for his bottle, watched as _he_ reached for his, long fingers wrapping around the glass, obscuring the label completely. 

“Hey,” Jensen whispered.

“Hey…” 

Jensen swallowed at the slow, lazy smile, all teeth, and laughter-lines that looked out of place against his boyish good looks and yet seemed to make him appear even younger, more handsome. 

“So, you got a name?” Jensen asked.

“Jar… Jay, its Jay.”

“Jay,” Jensen tested the sound of it, enjoying the way it danced over his tongue, tasted as it tripped over his lips. The way it sounded as he breathed it out, a promise. Somehow it sounded like a promise, maybe the most important promise he’d ever made or was likely to make.

“Well alright,” Jensen replied, striving for casual when it felt anything but. He tilted his bottle to touch Jay’s lightly, turned away, and took several steps in the direction of his table.

“Wait, you got a name?” Jared asked.

“You can call me Jen.” Jensen glanced over his shoulder, winked and watched Jared frown and then smile as he lifted his own bottle, brought it to his lips and took a long swallow. 

“What the fuck was that?” Chris asked as Jensen sat back down at their table.

Jensen wanted to say that he had absolutely no fucking idea. Tempted to ask Chris if he knew what if felt like to be blindsided because that’s exactly how Jensen felt. Like he’d been hit at high speed by something huge. Possibly something as innocent sounding as laughter, the simplicity of a smile. One that had crawled inside of him, wrapped itself around his insides and staked its claim. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders at Chris’ questioning stare, placed the bottle of beer between his thighs, and circled his fingers around the neck. Made tracks in the condensation collecting against the glass as he ran his hand up and down the bottle before bringing it to his lips. 

“You bastard,” Chris laughed. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a slut, Jen?”

Jensen grinned around the neck of the bottle, let it rest between his teeth as he looked back at Chris and then tilted the bottle slightly, sliding it back and forth across his bottom lip. 

“Shut up and watch the show,” Jensen rasped. 

“Oh, I’m watching,” Chris, laughed. 

“I meant the one on the stage, asshole.” Jensen settled his beer back between his thighs, glanced over his shoulder toward the bar and shifted his legs, spread them even wider and watched as Jared shifted uncomfortably. Jensen smiled, wet his bottom lip with his tongue before letting it rest between his teeth, mouth widening to form a grin, and groaned as Jared mirrored the movement. He raised an eyebrow, almost but not quite a question and Jared took a step forward as Jensen hooked one foot around the vacant chair beside him and pushed it away from the table in invitation.

Jensen knew he was there without even looking and deliberately kept his gaze directed toward the stage. He shifted lower in his seat, skin tightening, pulling on the fine hairs of his naked forearm, causing goose bumps to appear as he felt Jared’s weight settle beside him. Denim riding against denim as Jared edged closer, just a touch. Neither spoke as Jensen lifted his beer, swallowed the last few drops before replacing the bottle on the table, his arm coming up to curve around the back of Jared’s chair. He closed his eyes, cursed inwardly as Steve eased into ‘Under You’ and could almost hear Chris smile. Felt Jared’s hand settle against his thigh as Jensen slid even lower in his seat and bit back a groan. The heat from Jared’s touch burned through his jeans, large hands learned the shape of his thigh as Jensen tilted his hips slightly in response. His hand slid up the back of Jared’s chair to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, running his fingers through its softness before settling against Jared’s shoulder. 

Jensen tried to concentrate on the music, tried to ignore Chris’ whistle and low laughter, tempted to pay Chris back with the return of a swift kick under the table. He closed his eyes, strained to hear Steve’s voice over the sound of Jared’s breathing, but it was all Jensen could hear. The slight inhale, the low groan as Jensen twisted his fingers in Jared’s hair and tugged gently, lost in the feeling of heat and touch as Jared shifted closer, slid his hand higher, fingers massaging the inside of Jensen’s thigh beneath the table. 

Jared was so close Jensen could smell the alcohol on his breath, hear the scrape of _his_ chair as he edged closer and suddenly leaned in. He shuddered as warm breath whispered over his face, fingers aching for purchase as Jared ran his hand down Jensen’s thigh. He swallowed, dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, waited, as Jared curled his fingers around his, pulled his hand back, slowly brought Jensen’s with it until it rested on Jared’s thigh. He tried to listen to the music, to not think about straddling Jared’s hips, pushing against him until Jared’s back arched against the chair, hips bucking up to mesh with his cock. Run both his hands through his hair, either side of his head and tighten his hold, twist his head to a side and taste the warm skin at the juncture of his throat. Tongue resting over his pulse point, counting the beats until they were breathing in unison. 

“Shit.” Jensen’s gaze clashed with Chris’, saw the look of interest, the arched eyebrow and quickly looked away as Jared’s muscles flexed beneath his touch. He felt the warm brush of skin against his forearm as Jared tightened his grip on Jensen’s hand, shifted it higher, splaying his fingers flat over Jensen’s hand as he leaned in closer.

“Jen?” Jared breathed. His lips ghosted lightly across Jensen’s cheek and Jensen forgot all about Chris, about anything as Jared’s tongue snaked forward, teased as he grazed his teeth across Jensen’s jaw line. 

“Yeah?” Jensen shuddered. Turned his head, his gaze drawn to the curve of Jared’s mouth as Jared urged their joined hands upward to press against his erect cock. Shifted his hips and pushed up in to Jensen’s hand. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Jared whispered.

Jensen cursed under his breath, shoved back his chair, and pushed himself to his feet, dragging Jared with him. Their fingers still entwined as Jensen glared at Chris’ answering grin before pulling his hand back as if burned. 

“Shut up,” Jensen hissed. He adjusted his jeans, looked away from Chris, and waved in the direction of the stage. Nodded once toward Steve and shoved Jared in the direction of the door as he heard Steve start in on the opening lyrics of ‘Hotel Love’.

“Move your ass,” Jensen hissed under his breath. Unsure who it was he wanted to hit more, Chris or Steve. 

The instant they were on the sidewalk Jensen reached for Jared, twisted him around and pushed him back against the wall, so close only a breath of air kept them apart. 

“How far?” Jensen asked. He reached for Jared, hand skirting his hip as he stepped between Jared’s parted thighs. He heard Jared groan as Jensen dipped his head, mouth teasing across the small mole to right of Jared’s lips. Jensen lingered for a second, mouthed at the tender spot before continuing a path across Jared’s cheek, down his jaw, breathing him in, tasting sweat, Tequila, and sex before lifting his head and staring straight at him.

“How far to where we’re going?” Jensen hissed. 

“Two minutes,” Jared groaned. He swayed forward, reached for Jensen, clung to his shoulders, lips parted, breath hot as he dragged his mouth across the rough, unshaven skin of Jensen’s cheek and down his throat. Part of him still unable to believe he’d just walked, almost ran out of a bar with a guy whose only conversation was his first name. If that was even his name. The other part wanted only to touch, explore, taste every inch of Jensen, starting with Jensen’s mouth. He wanted to know how it felt. If it felt as full beneath his as he imagined it would. Wanted to suck on Jensen’s bottom lip, hold it between his teeth, and feel the evidence of Jensen’s pleasure. Hear him groan hot and desperate, mouth opening beneath his own, inviting Jared into its warmth.

Two minutes. There was no way Jared could wait that long. 

Jensen tugged on Jared’s hair, his fingers finding purchase in its length, pulled him away as he felt Jared’s hand slide across his hip, his thumb brush against the heated skin just above the waistband of his jeans, trying to gain access. He pulled back, reluctant to lose contact, cock hardening painfully as Jared reached for him, fingers clutching, tugging at the belt loops of his jeans in an attempt to pull him back. The noises Jared made almost Jensen’s undoing, low, throaty desperate sounds. Short staccato bursts of air punctuated with sound that began on a low, deep moan and ended on Jensen’s name. 

“Not here, move.” Jensen closed his eyes and stepped back. His limbs heavy, jeans becoming more than uncomfortable, stained wet with his arousal. He glanced down, grimaced; fingers curled into the palms of his hand, fighting the urge to touch as Jared stepped toward him. So close, all Jensen had to do was breathe out and Jared would be there. 

“Just a taste,” Jared groaned. Positive he’d die of starvation if he didn’t feel the slant of Jensen’s mouth against his own within the next few seconds. 

“Move now, unless you plan to fuck me right here,” Jensen warned. 

Two minutes. There was no way Jensen could hold out for two minutes. 

Jared hadn’t even thought that far, hadn’t really gotten beyond wanting to get closer to Jensen’s mouth, _his_ mouth on Jensen’s mouth. Maybe he’d gotten as far as Jensen’s mouth hot and wet around his length, tongue curled around the head his cock. Jensen’s eyes open as Jared stared down at him, as Jensen looked back at Jared. Jensen’s cheeks hollowed out, hazel eyes darkening to emerald green as Jared thrust his cock between Jensen’s parted lips. Hands, he’d thought about hands. Jensen’s hands cupping his ass, bringing him closer, deeper, digging hard into his buttocks, Jensen’s thumbs prying his cheeks apart, fingers searching while Jared thrust into his mouth, cock brushing against the back of Jensen’s throat. 

Now that the thought was out there, now that Jensen had thrown it out there Jared could think of nothing but fucking Jensen. No, thinking about it just wasted time. Jared reached out, grabbed Jensen’s hand and almost dragged him along the street, long legs eating up the sidewalk beneath his feet, fingers already digging in his pockets for his keys. 

“Dude, slow down,” Jensen gasped. He tried to pull his hand free of Jared’s, needed to breathe as his lungs continued to burn oxygen and his mouth fought to give shape to the numerous curses his brain came up with for Jared’s height advantage. He took a deep breath, pulled harder trying to free himself of Jared’s grip, and then hurtled forward as Jared pulled back. Forward momentum coming to an abrupt halt as Jensen slammed into Jared’s chest. 

Jensen felt Jared’s arm come around his waist, hand snaking downward, fingers splayed against Jensen’s lower back, to push against his ass as Jared wedged his knee between Jensen’s thighs and pushed up. Jensen cursed under his breath, grateful for Jared’s arm supporting his waist, holding him upright, sure that without it he’d already be on the floor. 

“Changed your mind, Jen? Should I just fuck you here?” Jared groaned. 

Jensen opened his mouth to answer, say something, something that sounded remotely like _yes_ and _please_ but the words were lost, drowned out by the groan that filled his mouth, danced over his tongue as Jared’s lips covered his. 

“Oh, God,” Jared groaned. He felt Jensen’s hand against the back of his neck, heat radiating into his skin as Jensen pulled his head down, pushed his tongue into Jared’s mouth. Thrust his hips upward, hard against Jared’s leg, and rode his thigh. Jared pulled back, creating space, room to breathe, just to breathe. It was too much, it was everything, it was Jensen’s mouth, and he wanted more. He wanted moist-full lips, moans that escaped moist-full lips, hot breath, and Jensen. 

“One minute, one more minute,” Jared gasped. He grabbed Jensen’s hand once more and pulled him around the corner, trusting Jensen to keep up. Closed his eyes and tilted his head back when he came to a sudden stop at the door of his rented apartment and felt Jensen press in against his back. Strong arms circled his waist, Jensen’s forehead pressed hard between his shoulder blades as Jared fumbled for the lock, hands shaking as he pushed against the door and stumbled inside. 

“Leave it,” Jensen urged as Jared fumbled for the light switch. All Jensen wanted was to find the nearest flat surface, feel something solid beneath his back and Jared above him, naked and hard. 

“Bedroom?” Jared hissed. He took a step forward, unbuckled his belt as he made his way across, the room. Toed one shoe off after the other, and stepped out of them as he tugged the first button free on his jeans. Even in the dark, he could feel Jensen behind him, keeping in step, pulling at his own clothes. He couldn’t explain it, not even to himself but he’d known, even before he’d turned around in the bar and first seen Jensen. He’d known he was there, known Jensen was looking at him, watching him and Jared had known instinctively which way to turn, where to look to find him. It was a total ease of movement, turn, look and there he was. Like now, crowding into Jared’s space as he entered the bedroom, bare-chested, jeans riding low against his hips as he looked up at Jared and Jared watched him, his breath catching in his throat as Jensen slid the final button loose. 

“Your two minutes are up,” Jared whispered. Throat dry, so much it almost hurt to talk. Maybe it started out about his mouth but now, seeing Jensen standing there, completely free under Jared’s watchful eye, unmoving as Jared just looked. 

“Fuck.” Jared’s gaze skimmed over broad shoulders, perfectly symmetrical collarbone beneath a smattering of freckles, teased out by the sun. Jared wanted to taste every one of them, drag his tongue across the indent of bone until he knew the pattern they made against Jensen’s skin. He wet his dry lips, tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat, stepped forward, and groaned at the look of anticipation that crept across Jensen’s face. Felt Jensen’s mouth soften beneath his touch, Jensen’s chin come up, eyes meeting Jared’s as Jared brushed his thumb across Jensen’s bottom lip, watched as Jensen sealed his lips around it and sucked it in, mouth moist and hot as it closed around him. Jared closed his eyes, groaned as his cock pushed painfully against his jeans. He pulled his hand free, seconds away from coming in his pants. Palm connecting with Jensen’s chest as he pushed him down on to the bed, watched him fall, legs spread as Jensen lifted himself up on to his elbows, and looked up at Jared. 

“Too many clothes, Jen,” Jared complained. 

Jensen pushed the heels of his feet against the softness of the mattress, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, shrugged them over his hips, and down his thighs, gave them a hard tug before letting them drop to the floor. Saw Jared remove the foil packet from his back pocket and toss it onto the bedside table before unbuttoning his own jeans, his cock already hard. Jensen shifted on the bed, raised one knee, slid his hand down over his own stomach, fingers ghosting through coarse hair as he circled his erection, his gaze locked with Jared’s and watched as Jared stepped out of his jeans. 

“Regular boy scout aren’t you?” Jensen grinned. 

Jared smiled, slow and easy and dragged his shirt over his head, let it fall to the floor as he stepped forward, one knee braced against the mattress as he leaned over and into Jensen’s space. 

Jared’s gaze went straight to Jensen’s cock. Jensen’s hand wrapped around his own cock, fingers gliding over the tip to collect the wetness there, using it to ease the friction as he lifted up into his hand. Jared groaned. Raised his other knee on the bed, leaned forward, braced both his palms flat out in front of him to bear his weight, and eased forward, crawled upward along cool sheets. He lowered his head, closed his mouth over the dampness coating Jensen’s stomach, and groaned as his cock bumped against Jensen’s hip. 

He was so close Jensen could smell Jared’s arousal, see the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, which betrayed the ease of Jared’s movements, the casualness of his smile. He wanted this as much as Jensen did, wanted Jensen. Fuck, Jensen wanted him; had wanted him from the instant he’d noticed _that_ smile, the softness of his hair, strong shoulders and the long muscular length of his legs. 

But it hadn’t prepared him for this moment. Seeing Jared naked and above him, those long legs now straddling his hips, coarse hair whispering against his skin. Those large hands, confident and skilled braced against his chest as Jared skimmed his palm over Jensen’s nipple, dragging a moan from Jensen’s throat as Jensen arched his back, lifted his hips, and felt his cock slide against Jared’s hard length. 

“Are we doing this or what?” Jared whispered Jensen’s mouth open. Breath hot as he eased forward, swiped his tongue lightly against Jensen’s bottom lip before sucking it into the warmth of his own. 

“You gonna keep asking stupid questions? Or are you gonna fuck me,” Jensen asked around their shared breath, whisky sour and hot.

“When I’m ready,” Jared answered as Jensen’s mouth widened beneath his, tongue edged forward to curl around his own. 

“Wanna taste first…” 

Jared dragged his lips from Jensen’s almost reluctantly and planted open-mouthed kisses across Jensen’s collarbone, moving with deliberate thoroughness. He teased Jensen’s nipples erect with his tongue, first one, then the other as he shifted slightly, cocks aligning as he tried and failed to keep his hips still and heard Jensen moan beneath him. 

“Jen…” Jared groaned.

Jensen wrapped one leg around Jared’s waist. The heel of his foot nudging Jared in the small of his back, forcing him down, closer as Jared groaned louder. Jensen nudged harder as Jared slid one hand up Jensen’s leg, kneading his way upward as he gripped Jensen’s thigh, pushed his leg back further, higher. Jensen bit his lip, frustrated, tempted to shove at Jared, flip him over until he was flat on his back and fuck him through the mattress but his cock was right _there_ , hard and already there. Jensen arched up off the bed; pleasure warred with frustration, with want and the need to feel Jared’s cock push hard and deep. 

“Jay, please. Just fuck me,” Jensen begged. He lifted his hips, felt the head of Jared’s cock brush against his ass as Jared eased his hold on Jensen’s thigh, smoothed his hand along the inside of his leg until Jensen’s foot came to rest against Jared’s shoulder. 

“Just a taste, Jen…”

Jensen felt hot breath ghost over his thigh, he reached down and twisted his fingers in Jared’s hair, dragged him upward, mouths meshing, breath mingling as Jensen lifted his hips. Demanding, cock hard, he twisted his fingers into the sheet beneath him and moved his hips back and forth until he felt Jared’s cock, hard and wet push against him. 

“Taste later, fuck now,” Jensen hissed. He reached across the bed, one hand already fumbling for the silver packet Jared had thrown down earlier, fingers crinkling the foil as he thrust it at Jared. Saw Jared reach for the packet, fingers sliding over his own as Jensen stared up at him, features flushed, eyes dark and filled with want as he raised his other knee, hooked it around Jared’s waist and pulled him down until they were skin on skin, against each other. 

“Now, Jay.”

Jensen swallowed and sucked in his bottom lip, gritted his teeth, watched Jared roll the condom over his erect cock, heard him groan, saw him grip the base for an instant before he pushed against the baseboard and thrust up into Jensen’s ass, hard and fast. 

“Fuck,” Jensen hissed. He raised himself up on his elbows. Increased his hold around Jared’s waist and tilted his hips as he brought Jared hard against him and felt the tight stretch of his inner muscles as Jared pulled back and then thrust upward once more. 

“Not slow, Jay, faster,” Jensen urged. He thrust up against Jared’s cock, the friction of skin against his, course hair teasing his balls elicited one groan after another. The feel of Jared above him, inside him, arms braced against the mattress, trapping Jensen beneath his larger frame. Jensen knew it would be like this, feel like this. He arched his back, tilted his hips to meet each thrust of Jared’s hips, the look in Jared’s eyes as he stared down at him, a mixture of want and need. The feeling of being completely surrounded by Jared, surrounding Jared, was almost enough to send Jensen over the edge. He couldn’t remember ever witnessing anything even closely resembling the heat and sensuality of what he was seeing now. Until Jared threw his head back, mouth opening as he swallowed and breathed Jensen’s name, once, twice, louder, more desperate as he thrust his hips harder, faster, pushed his cock deeper, withdrew only to push back, deeper still.

Jensen groaned against the need to close his eyes, give in to the feel of Jared above him when all he wanted to do was watch; watch Jared come apart. Feel Jared come apart inside him. Jensen tightened around him, clenched his muscles in a regular rhythm which caused Jared’s cock to pulse and throb, teasing a loud moan from Jared’s parted lips. Jensen gripped Jared’s hips, fingers massaging damp skin and pulled Jared closer, urged him deeper until he felt Jared’s balls tighten against his ass.

“How’s this, is this soon enough for you?” Jared gasped.

Jensen closed his eyes, sucked in his bottom lip, bit down hard against its fullness as Jared circled his erection with long fingers, fisted his cock as he thrust upward, and held the rhythm. 

“S’good Jay, real good… gonna…”

Jensen felt Jared tighten his hold; grip him harder, almost to the point of pain as he fisted his cock in time with his thrusts. Jensen tried to keep his eyes open as his whole body began to tremble. Until he could do nothing but feel, heat, and movement, escalating pleasure and the desperate, almost ragged sounds Jared made as Jensen buried his face in the hollow of Jared’s neck and cried out, warm come coating his stomach. He felt Jared thrust up, hard and then suddenly go still above him, Jared’s teeth sharp against Jensen’s shoulder as he moaned his orgasm into sweat-soaked skin.

“What part of now did you not understand?” Jensen gasped as Jared collapsed on top of him.

“Not funny, Jen.” 

Jensen grunted, relieved when Jared lifted up on to his elbows and rolled over to settle beside Jensen. Threw one arm across Jensen’s waist and pulled him closer. 

“What, you want to snuggle?” Jensen laughed as he edged closer. 

“Tired, wanna sleep,” Jared mumbled against Jensen’s shoulder. 

Jensen raised himself up on his elbow, one leg rested, almost possessively across Jared’s hip and reached out, fingers curling in Jared’s dark hair and watched Jared stretch. Watched the way the sheet pulled tight around his waist. He trailed one finger down the side of Jared’s face and swallowed as Jared turned to face him, wrapped one arm around him, even in sleep, and smiled. Jensen didn’t know how long he lay there and just looked at Jared, watched him sleep. Minutes, hours… just watching him. 

It was almost light outside when he finally forced himself to move away, eased slowly off the bed, reached for his jeans and shrugged them over his hips. He paused as Jared shifted on the bed, arm flung out, hand smoothing over the sheet, fingers searching…

“Jen?”

Waited until Jared’s breathing fell into a deep rhythmic pattern before he closed the bedroom door quietly, he tucked his T-shirt into the waistband of his jeans and only hesitated once before he closed the outer door behind him and heard the lock click into place. 

It was just a hook up, nothing special, he told himself and tried not choke on the lie. But it wouldn’t work and there was the Pilot he was up for. If he got the call back for the audition he’d be returning to Vancouver before the month was out and long distance relationships never work. Jensen caught himself, laughed, relationship, since when was a casual fuck a relationship? 

It didn’t mean anything. He didn’t even get his full name. And it wasn’t as if he was ever going to see him again.


End file.
